Memories that Never Fade
by some-infinities
Summary: Sirius Black ran away, left his family even before he left school. His brother Regulus, having doubts about the life he has chosen to live, wonders if he could find Sirius again.


**A/N **So this is the first fanfiction I ever completed, and the first Harry Potter one for me to post. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for reading.

**Disclaimer: **It is my goal in life to own Harry Potter, but right now I do not.

This is dedicated to my three friends who have accounts on Pottermore, each of us in a different house.

Some Memories Never Go Away

Why does it bother me so much when his name comes up in conversation? Maybe it's all the memories.

They're not easy to forget, the years of jokes and games. When all of life was a barrel of laughs. When every sentence was followed by a giggle. Everything funny had to do with him. Those years aren't easy to forget.

It is not that I don't try. Oh, how I've tried. But maybe it is better to remember. Maybe it's better to have something to remember him with. He's gone from everything, it seems. From home. From the family. From my life. But he's still there. In my memories.

That's all it gets for me to pay attention. They're talking, yet I'm not listing. Not unless I hear his name. All I want is news. I haven't laid eyes on him for a year. Or talked to him in three. I go to places, hoping just to see him if not to speak. But he's not there. He's never there.

They all thought I gave up on him long ago. Six or seven or maybe even eight years ago. But they're all wrong. Eventually they'll begin to suspect the truth. That won't be easy. But neither is denying I care. Neither is forgetting

I wonder: "Does he care? Does he remember? Does he realize I do?" Sometimes I think of course, if it is so hard for me to give up on him it must be the same way with him for me. But other times I say, if he still cares, why hasn't he come? He must think that I am like them. That I, too, have given up on him. That I don't remember.

Some day, I imagine, I will find him. Will knock on his door. And he will greet me with open arms. And he will understand.

What was the last thing we said to each other? Was it meaningful? Did it tell him I would miss him? Did we know those would be the last words? Will there be more?

Even when we saw each other, did he think I was like them? Because I was never like them. Not then. Not now. But did he know?

And if I saw him now. If he understood. Would he care? Would he want those last words to stay our last? Or would he want there to be hundreds more?

I ask these questions. I ask them every day, but I never get answers. "Will I ever get them?" I think. But that is just another question.

Sometimes, I think, he knew we would not be together forever. That eventually we would go our separate ways. Most people do. But most still see each other again. Yet me with them, and him away, it was too perfect if we could still be friends. So now I can only wish that the perfection would come true.

He always took care of me. When I was upset of frustrated. He was always there. Even when he was angry. When everyone was mad. He always had a moment to spare for me.

_We all introduce ourselves. Then the people we are supposed to be meeting go off. I stand, staring around the room. Bored. He whispers in my ear. A joke. I murmur back. We start a game. He was always good at getting me interested. At making me laugh. _

_ There is shouting downstairs. Loud. So loud. I run into his room, so glad he is there. I can feel a tear making it's way down my cheek. So loud. He sees me and smiles. He tells me it's okay. He was always good at cheering me up. _

_ Now he is the one screaming. So angry everyone is. I begin to shake. He hates them, all of them. Does he hate me? But afterwards he comes back and gives me a hug. He always loved me. _

See why I can't forget? Why it's so hard to forget? Why I still care? When there is someone that important to you, you can't give up. Even when you think they betrayed you. Even when they think you betrayed them.

I walk into his room sometimes. I look around. Let the memories hit me from every direction. I always want to take something to keep. But he was always good at the permanent sticking charm. I can't take anything. Sometimes I think that it would be better if there was any sign that he had left. Other than the coat of dust broken only by my footsteps, nothing in that room has changed.

His room makes me want to tear apart my own. He was always brave. Not afraid of our parents. Not like me. But now I must play my part of the son my parents want. But eventually I'll break free. Then I'll find him.

But when can I find him? I need to now. Could I do the impossible? I know where he is living. I instinctively keep track. Could I find him?

I've been taking risks for years. Risking my life by betraying them. Risking my family by still remembering him. This is just another risk. One that is worth taking. That much I know.

So I leave. There is so much danger. But I know what I am doing is right. So I leave. The streets I walk are surprisingly familiar. Now I realize I have been unconsciously learning the streets that would lead me to him. For the time I was brave enough to come. For now.

And now I see him. And he sees me. He blinks. Is that a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth? He always liked to smile. Are all my questions about to be answered? He _is_ smiling. No, grinning. He is happy to see me. He raises his arms. And, feeling like a child, I run towards him. I am reliving my best memories. I will have more about him. More that I'll never forget. His whispers my name. And I reply, my voice cracking with amazement. And what's the other emotion? Joy. "Sirius".


End file.
